Читать книгу The Daddy Dilemma - Karen Rose Smith - Страница 8
ОглавлениеChapter One
Six Years Later
Sara opened the heavy oak door into Pine Grove Lodge, anxiety tightening her chest, her heart pounding hard. She wasn’t sure she should be here, but she had to find out if Nathan Barclay’s son was her son. He might not be. Her eggs might not have been instrumental in giving the Barclays a child. But the dates lined up—her donation and Kyle’s birth. She had to know for sure. Her accident and hysterectomy in June had devastated her…until during her recuperation, Joanne, who’d left the fertility clinic a few years ago to take a more lucrative position elsewhere, had revealed Nathan Barclay’s name.
Moving into the great room, Sara found no one standing at the long mahogany counter.
A door opened at the rear of the room and a tall, broad-shouldered man carrying an armful of logs came in and kicked the door shut with one booted foot. As he passed the floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace and caught sight of her, he smiled. But it was a forced smile that didn’t light up his eyes, which were the same color as the gray November sky outside.
Sara recognized Nathan Barclay from the photograph she’d found in an article about him and his dad restoring this resort in their hometown of Rapid Creek, Minnesota. Still reeling from her mom’s death from cancer a year ago, as well as the accident that had taken away Sara’s ability to have children, she’d looked him up on the Internet, and she’d found more than she’d ever imagined. Most important, she’d learned he was a widower and had a son who was five.
She hadn’t made an impulsive decision that could affect several lives. After her recuperation, she’d returned to her law firm, working seventy to eighty hours a week. But after two months, she’d decided to use vacation time, and had packed a suitcase, grabbed her laptop and headed to the Wisconsin Dells to think. Two days into her getaway, she’d found herself driving to Rapid Creek, searching for answers.
Now here she was, practically shaking in her sneakers.
“If you’re looking for a room, I’m sorry, but we don’t have any vacancies. This time of year we’re usually full.” Nathan Barclay’s deep voice resonated through Sara, making her anxiety grab a stronger hold.
Straightening her shoulders and taking a breath, she waited only a heartbeat before replying, “I’m not looking for a room.”
At her words his dark brows quirked up. Turning away from her, he lowered the armful of logs onto the hearth. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it would burst from her chest.
Finally, he brushed off his hands and crossed to her. Only two feet away, she noticed strands of gray at the temples of his dark brown hair, lines above his brows and around his eyes and mouth.
“If you don’t need a room for the night, how can I help you?” he asked, looking puzzled.
“Mr. Barclay, I’m Sara Hobart.”
He showed no recognition of her name.
State the facts. Make him understand.
“Almost six years ago, on January 23, I donated eggs at the Brighton Fertility Clinic in Minneapolis. I found out your wife benefited from that donation. I’m wondering…I believe…”
His firm jaw set. His stance became defensive.
Forgetting her training as a lawyer, and too personally involved to weigh her words, she plunged in and asked, “Did your wife conceive from that in vitro procedure?”
The man before her was on his guard. His eyes were dark with stormy outrage. “How could you possibly have gotten my name? That information is confidential.”
“Mr. Barclay, I don’t mean you or Kyle any harm—”
“How do you know my son’s name?” Barclay’s voice was rough and he was looking at her as if he should call the police.
More determined than ever to find out if she was Kyle’s mother, if she had a legitimate claim, she stretched out her hand in a pleading gesture. “I’m a lawyer. I have easy access to databases. If you’d let me start at the beginning—”
“I don’t want you to start anywhere. I want you to leave. If it’s true you donated eggs at Brighton, then you also signed a release form relinquishing any rights. So if you think I’m going to pay you another cent, you’re sadly mistaken.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want money. I…I was in an automobile accident and had to have a hysterectomy. I looked you up on the Internet and found out you’re a widower. When I searched public records, I discovered your wife died in childbirth and so did Kyle’s twin brother.”
“You had no right to invade my privacy!”
“I can’t have children, Mr. Barclay. I’d like to meet Kyle. That’s all.” Her voice shook on the last word.
After a long, silent pause and a penetrating search of her eyes, he said firmly, “I’m not going to let a stranger just waltz into our home.”
Trying to keep her composure, reminding herself calm reason could possibly make a dent in Nathan Barclay’s armor, she took a folded sheet of paper from her coat pocket and handed it to him. “Here are my credentials and a brief background. I’ve also provided references. My friends and neighbors don’t know why I’m here, but they can tell you anything you need to know about me.”
He took the sheet of paper and glanced at it, then asked in a low voice, “What do you really want?”
“I want to meet Kyle. Afterward, I’ll return to Minneapolis.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. I give you my word. I know I have no rights here. I just want to meet him.” Because if she did, she’d know, wouldn’t she? Wouldn’t instinct tell her if Kyle was hers?
His gaze raked over her shoulder-length blond hair, her jeans, sneakers and rose, cable-knit sweater under her suede jacket. She knew he was trying to assess whether or not she was a danger to him. But his gaze passing over her made her feel self-conscious and…warm.
“Miss Hobart, your word means nothing to me. You said you’re a lawyer. If you are, you know the document you signed was valid.”
Yes, it was. She didn’t need a custody lawyer to tell her that. She motioned to the paper she’d given him. “I’ve written the name of the bed-and-breakfast where I’m staying on the back of my references. I’ll be there until Friday.”
Silence echoed from floor to ceiling in the large room. Finally, he asked, “And after Friday?”
“I’ll be returning to Minneapolis.” When his stone-cold expression gave away none of his thoughts, she added, “Please put yourself in my shoes, Mr. Barclay. Since my accident, my life has been in turmoil. Actually, it’s come to a standstill. I need to meet Kyle to move on.”
After he folded the sheet of paper she’d given him, he shoved it into the pocket of his Western-cut shirt. “I think you should go.”
Sara could see that nothing else she said would move him or change his mind. After a last look into his eyes, dark gray now with the turbulence she’d obviously caused, she gave a slight nod and retraced her steps to the front door. As she left Pine Grove Lodge, she hoped Nathan Barclay would try to put himself in her shoes and call her before Friday.
If he didn’t, she might never meet Kyle and learn whether or not he was her son.
“What did Ben say?” Galen Barclay looked worried as Nathan hung up the phone.
“I have to check on Kyle.” Nathan was still reeling from his encounter with Sara Hobart that afternoon. Calling his brother Ben, who was an assistant district attorney in Albuquerque, had seemed to be a good idea. But Ben’s experience with women had left his brother cynical.
“Kyle will be fine for a few minutes,” his father insisted. “He’s playing with his fire trucks in his room.”
Ever since his son had been born early, at twenty-six weeks, Nathan had been protective of him. When he’d developed asthma, Nathan hadn’t wanted him out of his sight. At his father’s urging he’d relaxed a bit with all of his coddling, but he still kept a close eye on Kyle.
“So what was Ben’s advice?” his dad asked again.
“He told me not to worry. He assured me that if Sara Hobart signed a release form when she donated her eggs—he believes the word donated doesn’t apply, since she received $10,000 in exchange for them—she doesn’t have a parental leg to stand on. He thinks she’s simply a gold digger, and I tend to agree.” Though that’s what Nathan’s head told him, he remembered the pain in the woman’s eyes when she’d spoken of having a hysterectomy.
“You said she’s a lawyer.”
“Yes. I called one of her references, a neighbor. I also checked the roster of attorneys at the firm listed on her credentials. Apparently she is a lawyer in Charles Frank’s firm. When I searched the Internet, there was an account of her accident this summer. A man in his forties who’d taken cold medication fell asleep while he was driving, crossed the highway and hit her head on. From the sound of it, she’s lucky she wasn’t killed. Everything she told me seems to be true.”
After a reflective silence, his dad commented, “If she’s a lawyer in Charles Frank’s law firm—it’s the biggest and best in Minneapolis—I doubt she’s looking for a handout. You know Ben. He believes women are out for whatever they can get. This Hobart woman could be on the level. What if she is the one who enabled you and Colleen to have a child? What if she is Kyle’s mother?”
Nathan’s heart rejected that idea instantaneously. Colleen was Kyle’s mother. Nathan had pictures of his deceased wife all over the house. He wanted Kyle to know her in some small way. He knew what it was like to grow up without a mother. His own had left him and his two brothers to pursue her career and live a life better than the one she’d found in Rapid Creek. She hadn’t looked back. Unlike his own attempt to give Kyle a sense of Colleen, his dad had tried to wipe his wife’s memory from all of their lives. After she’d left, Galen had never spoken of her again. Not until Nathan had asked questions when he’d graduated from high school.
“Son, Colleen is gone.” His dad was always blunt when he wanted to make a point. “She isn’t here to put her arms around Kyle when he needs a hug. He can’t hear her voice in the middle of the night when he’s scared.”
Nathan’s anger rose quickly, the same anger that had shaken its fist at fate when that force had taken Colleen and Kyle’s twin, Mark, away from him. “I give him hugs. I sit with him when he has bad dreams.”
“But are you enough? Am I enough? Is Val enough? None of us can take the place of a mother.”
Nathan and Galen both depended on Val Lindstrom, the housekeeper Nathan had hired to look after Kyle when he was busy at the lodge or guiding tourists who stayed there. “Ben, Sam and I grew up just fine with only you to take care of us,” Nathan said.
“Maybe you did and maybe you didn’t. I don’t think Ben will ever trust a woman enough to settle down with her. And that stems back to your mother deserting us. And Sam… Maybe he chose poorly because I never taught him how to choose wisely.”
Since his dad rarely brought up the subject of their mother’s desertion, Nathan decided to take advantage of this opportunity. “Why didn’t you ever remarry?”
“Because not many women could take on three boys and like it. I never met anyone willing to try.” Galen picked up the paper on the counter that Sara Hobart had given to Nathan. “What harm would come from inviting this Hobart woman to meet Kyle? I’m sure he gets tired of just seeing you, me and Val.”
“What harm?” Nathan couldn’t believe his dad wouldn’t acknowledge the obvious. “If she sees him, she might want to spend more time with him. What if she stays in Rapid Creek?”
Waving that idea away with a flick of his hand, Galen responded, “She has a first-class job in Minneapolis. She didn’t go to school all those years just to give it up.”
Something else troubled Nathan even more. “What if Kyle likes her?”
“And what if he doesn’t?” his dad protested. “What if they don’t get along at all? What if his asthma scares her?”
Even if he entertained that possibility, Nathan was unsettled by the idea of inviting Sara Hobart into his home. “I think we’d be taking a big gamble letting her meet him.”
“Aren’t you taking a bigger gamble never telling Kyle the truth?”
“He’s not old enough to understand.”
Galen’s eyes were a steady gray, showing the wisdom of his sixty-four years. “When will he be old enough? When he’s twelve? When he’s sixteen?”
“Dad—”
“You can’t ignore the truth, even though you’ve tried. You’ve convinced yourself you and Colleen were the only two people involved.”
Yes, he had. Ever since Colleen had been implanted with the embryos, they’d dismissed the donor. She’d been a means for Colleen to get pregnant, and that was all.
But now that donor had a face—a very pretty face…and green eyes identical to Kyle’s. “I’m not sure we should let her into our lives.”
“She’s already in your life if she’s Kyle’s mother.”
That was a very big if.
Sara Hobart had given her word she’d go back to Minneapolis after she met Kyle. Could Nathan believe her?
When Sara stepped into Nathan Barclay’s log home, she felt like an interloper. But it didn’t matter how she felt. Only meeting Kyle mattered.
Nathan stood in the living room amid comfortable green-and-brown-plaid corduroy furniture. His jaw was set in an uncompromising line, as if he was sorry he’d invited her here.
As her gaze locked with his, a tingle of awareness ran through her. She ignored it. “I was grateful you called. I honestly thought you wouldn’t. What changed your mind?”
“You checked me out. I checked on you. Everything you told me was true.”
“You didn’t expect it to be?”
He shook his head. “There are lots of crazy people in the world, Miss Hobart.”
“It’s Sara.” For some reason she believed that if he used her given name, there would at least be a tenuous thread of communication between them.
He didn’t use her name and his tone was severe. “Before I call Kyle from his room, there’s something you need to know. He has asthma.”
Instantly concerned, Sara asked, “Is it serious? I don’t know much about the condition.”
“It can be life threatening.” As she absorbed that, he went on. “I’m not being dramatic. When he had his first attack, he was three. I’d painted two of the bedrooms in the lodge and had him there with me. He started having trouble breathing, then he began to wheeze. I didn’t know what was happening, but thank goodness I brought him downstairs while Dad called emergency services.”
Although Nathan’s face was stoic, Sara could imagine the fear and panic that must have shaken him. “Is Kyle on medication?”
“Yes. And he uses inhalers.”
“Are there particular things that cause an attack?” She should know what they were. A little voice asked, Why, if this is the only time you’re going to see Kyle? She pushed that question away.
“Strong smells like cleaning solutions or scented candles. Extreme cold. Too much dust.” Nathan took a few steps closer. “And emotional upset. I don’t want him upset. I told him a friend was coming to visit, that’s all.”
She had to look up a good six inches to meet Nathan’s eyes. They were almost threatening, and the message was clear. If she did anything to upset Kyle, he’d toss her out.
Still, amazingly, she didn’t feel intimidated, because she understood. As a parent, she’d want to protect her child that fiercely, too. “I understand.”
The November weather was becoming colder. She’d worn jeans and a sweater again, topped by her suede jacket. She unbuttoned it, hoping Kyle’s dad would let her stay more than five minutes.
As she slid out of one sleeve, Nathan was beside her. “I’ll hang this in the closet.”
Relieved, she smiled at him and motioned to a bakery bag she’d set on the arm of the sofa with her purse. “I brought chocolate chip cookies. Does Kyle have any dietary restrictions?”
“No. No food allergies, thank goodness. And he does love chocolate. It was thoughtful of you to bring them.”
Nathan was acting superbly polite. She wished he’d just be himself and say what he was thinking. “It’s not a bribe,” she assured him. “Chocolate and little boys just seem to go together.”
When he didn’t respond, she tried again. “You told Kyle I was a friend. He’ll know that’s not true if he senses your hostility.”
“I’m not hostile.”
She wasn’t going to argue with him. “Can we pretend to be friendly for Kyle’s sake?”
Nathan blew out a long sigh. “Look, Miss—”
“Sara,” she reminded him.
“All right. Sara. I’m not pleased about you being here. I just want this over with. I’m not going to pretend otherwise.”
“Kyle will pick up whatever you feel.”
“Maybe. On the other hand, if I’m not feeling anything, he won’t pick up anything. While you spend time with him, I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“You’re going to let me sink or swim on my own?” She meant the comment to lighten the tension a bit. But it didn’t, and she murmured, “You’re hoping I sink.” So much for being friends. “Okay, Mr. Barclay. How much time are you going to give me?”
“Let’s just see how it goes.”
She supposed that meant if she and Kyle got along well, he’d give her a little more time. But whether that was fifteen minutes or an hour, she knew he wouldn’t say. She was a planner, an organizer. But today she was going to have to go with the flow whether she liked it or not.
However, going with the flow required a certain amount of trust. She didn’t have much trust anymore—certainly not in men. In her experience men walked away when life didn’t go the way they planned.
How she wished her mother was still alive. She could give her guidance. But her mom was gone and Sara had no family. “Can I meet Kyle now?”
Carrying her jacket to the closet just inside the door, Nathan hung it up. Then, after a long look at her, he called, “Kyle. Come on out here a minute, will you? There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Sara’s heart raced so fast she couldn’t count the beats.
When the five-year-old appeared, tears brimmed in her eyes and she quickly blinked them away. She couldn’t be overcome by emotion. A child wouldn’t understand that, and she didn’t want to scare him. She just wanted to talk with him and be with him.
She didn’t need a DNA test to know right away that he was her son. She could see the evidence in his green eyes, so like hers…and in the tilt of his smile, so like her mother’s.
As he ran up to his dad and stood expectantly waiting for an introduction, while glancing surreptitiously at her, she noted he had Nathan’s dark brown hair and a very defined little chin. He’d probably be as stubborn as his father someday.
“Sara,” Nathan said, as if he’d been using her first name for years, “this is my son, Kyle. Kyle, this is that friend I told you about. Her name is Sara.”
Not knowing exactly how to proceed, she approached him slowly. “Hi there, Kyle.”
As a lawyer, Sara negotiated and dealt with adults on a daily basis. She suspected kids didn’t like to be crowded any more than grown-ups, so she kept some distance between them.
Motioning to the two fire trucks she’d spotted by the bookshelves, she decided to jump in with both feet. After all, her time here could be extremely limited. “I noticed your aerial truck and pumper. Were you rescuing people from those tall buildings?” She’d taken a guess that the bookshelves were high-rises.
Kyle, who was almost standing behind his dad’s hip, took a step closer to her. “Those are apartment buildings,” he said with some excitement. “How did you know?”
Sara crouched down to his level and looked him straight in the eye. “When I was a little girl, I had a nurse doll. I used our television stand as the hospital. Each shelf was a different floor.”
Grinning widely now, Kyle let go of his dad’s pant leg and stood even closer. “Do you want to play with me? We could rescue everybody and put the fire out.”
Before she said yes, she glanced at Nathan. He was the one making decisions, and she couldn’t take a wrong step.
He gave a tight nod.
She wished she could take Kyle into her arms and give him a hug, but she knew it was too soon for that. Also, if she did, she had a feeling Nathan might panic and pull Kyle away.
Instead, she said calmly, “I’d love to play with you.”
Kyle ran to the bookshelves and dropped down onto the floor, cross-legged. “You can drive the pumper truck. I like to drive the aerial. But I’ll let you climb up, too.”
In spite of herself, she laughed. “That’s good…because I don’t think I can get to the top shelf without using the ladder.”
Like any five-year-old involved in his own world, Kyle didn’t ask who she was, where she was from or why she was there. All he cared about was the fact she was playing with him.
They’d been rescuing pretend inhabitants in the bookshelf apartments for about a half hour when Nathan called from the kitchen. “Time for milk and cookies. Come in here to eat them, though. I wouldn’t want the crumbs to clog up your fire hoses.”
Apparently the man had a sense of humor when he interacted with his son, Sara thought.
Kyle called back, “In a minute, Dad.”
Suddenly Nathan appeared, only a few feet away. “I’ll set the timer.” He winked at Sara. “His minutes can get awfully long sometimes.”
Gazing up at Nathan—noticing again his muscular body; his angular face, which was interesting rather than purely handsome; the slight smile that was all for his son—Sara felt a tummy-twirling sensation. When she considered the situation, her joy at simply being here with Kyle, she dismissed it as excitement. However, when she was sitting in the rustic kitchen with its hurricane lamp chandelier above the round pine table, Nathan looming like a guardian angel between her and Kyle, she wasn’t so sure. Although all of her attention was focused on the five-year-old, when she reached for a napkin in the center of the table and Nathan did so at the same time, their fingers brushed and heat zipped up her arm.
He jerked away and so did she. But the sensation remained.
A little later, when she leaned forward to ask Kyle his favorite flavor of ice cream, her leg grazed Nathan’s. She shifted away, but apparently not soon enough. Warmth spread through her body so rapidly she thought the temperature in the house had gone up ten degrees.
Knowing Nathan would soon cut off her time with Kyle, she finished her cookie and wiped her fingers on her napkin. “Are you in kindergarten this year?”
Crumbs on his upper lip, Kyle shook his head. “Nope. Dad says next year will be soon enough. I’m gonna be homeschooled.”
She looked to Nathan for an explanation.
“I thought I’d hire a tutor. With Kyle’s asthma it might be best to keep him at home.”
“Just for kindergarten?”
Nathan shrugged. “We’ll see how it goes.”
She couldn’t keep the words from escaping. “Interaction with other kids is important.”
“So is his health.”
Biting her tongue, Sara reached for her glass of milk. She had no say in what Nathan did. No say at all. But she knew in her heart that protecting Kyle too much could be as serious a problem as not protecting him enough.
Lifting the cuff of his shirt, Nathan checked his watch. “Sara has a little bit of time before she leaves. Why don’t you show her your room?”
“I’d love to see your room. Maybe I could read you a story. Do you like books?”
“I like Dr. Seuss and Clifford. I even have my own Clifford. Come on, I’ll show you.” Quicker than lightning, Kyle scrambled off his chair and left the kitchen for a hall that must lead to the bedrooms.
Nathan pushed his chair back, stood, picked up the empty cookie dish and took it to the sink. The kitchen decor was light green and tan. The window above the sink was curtainless and void of a blind, giving an unobstructed view of the backyard. Sara had passed sliding glass doors that led out to a deck before she’d sat at the table. The wide, expansive lawn dotted with maples, sycamores and firs was inviting—for a young boy to practice pitching a baseball, or for a quiet walk to soak in the peace of nature. The sky was robin-egg blue today and cloudless. The tall firs reached up to it and were a dozen different shades of green. This was a beautiful place to raise a child. She just hoped Nathan wouldn’t isolate Kyle in order to keep him safe.
“Thanks for suggesting he show me his room.”
“I thought you’d like to see it.”
“So I can take a mental picture of where he sleeps home with me?”
“Something like that.”
When Nathan turned toward her, their gazes met, and she almost felt as if the kitchen tilted a little. That was ridiculous. She was just hyperstimulated from meeting Kyle, from holding her own with Nathan, from wanting to remember every minute so she could treasure each one in her heart always.
“Sara, come on!” Kyle’s voice was enthusiastically shrill. “I want to show you my arrowheads.”
Breaking eye contact with Nathan, quickly gaining her equilibrium again, she hurried down the hall to Kyle’s room, knowing her time with him was limited.
* * *
Forty-five minutes later, Nathan impatiently checked his watch. He’d expected Kyle to be bored with Sara, or Sara to be bored with Kyle. He’d peeked into the room twice. The first time they were playing Candy Land. Sara had been seated cross-legged on Kyle’s bed, while Kyle knelt on the floor beside it, all rapt attention as they moved their board markers according to the colors on the cards they chose. The second time he’d checked on them, he’d been surprised to see Sara on the floor. Apparently Kyle had gone through his toy chest, showing her this and that. She’d fitted his monkey puppet onto her hand and was talking in a high voice, making his son laugh.
They were getting along too well. She was bonding with Kyle. If Nathan didn’t put a stop to this now, she’d want to come back. He couldn’t allow that.
This time when Nathan appeared in the doorway, she was sitting on the bed again, reading Kyle a story. Her melodic voice lifted and fell, and Nathan felt almost as mesmerized as his son.
That was ridiculous. Just as ridiculous as the awareness he felt every time Sara got within two feet of him. He was on pins and needles, wishing her out of his house. That was all.
The story Sara was reading Kyle wasn’t one of his usual favorites. It was The Velveteen Rabbit. Nathan had always considered the book too advanced for his son, but now he could see Kyle was enraptured by it—a story about a bunny loved so much it became real. Had Nathan also not pulled out that book to read at night because it would encourage his son to believe in the impossible?
The book finished, Sara closed it and saw him standing in the doorway. An expression so sad came over her face that Nathan actually felt sorry for her. Then he steeled himself against the emotion…against the compassion that would ruin what he’d built for himself and Kyle.
Colleen’s pictures sat on Kyle’s nightstand. What would she think about all this?
He pushed away that fanciful thought. “It’s time for Sara to go now.”
“Aw, Dad. Does she haf to?”
Although Sara looked as if she wanted to protest, too, she sat up straight. “I do have to go, Kyle. But it was a real treat visiting with you.”
“Can you come back?”
Nathan rubbed his forehead. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of. “She’s returning to Minneapolis tomorrow, Kyle. That’s where she lives.”
Sara slid her legs over the side of the bed and for a moment didn’t move. Nathan wondered if she was fighting tears. He hoped not because he wouldn’t know how to deal with those.
When she stood, she faced Kyle again. “My life is in Minneapolis. Coming up here was like a dream I had once. Thank you for making it come true.”
Unexpectedly, Kyle raced around to her side of the bed and gave her a hug. “I want you to come back.”
She hugged him for a very long time, then finally let him go. “I wish I could. But sometimes we can’t have what we want.”
“While I walk Sara out, why don’t you draw a picture of everything you did so you can give it to Gramps?”
“I want to mail it to Sara.”
Nathan relented so the argument wouldn’t continue. “All right, you can do that. Go ahead and get started.”
Kyle gave Sara an unhappy little wave, then went over to the small table and chairs where coloring books, art paper and crayons were stacked. As he sat, he looked over his shoulder.
Nathan put his hand at the small of Sara’s back and guided her out of the room. Was she trembling? Could leaving Kyle affect her this much? They didn’t even know for sure if Kyle was her son. From what he understood, mix-ups happened in fertility clinics.
She stood silent as he pulled her jacket from the closet and handed it to her. She took it and he saw her eyes were shiny. Yet her voice was steady when she said, “Thank you for letting me meet him. I wish…” She shook her head. “You know what I wish.”
“He might not even be your son.”
“He’s my son. He has my eyes.”
Nathan couldn’t dispute that because he saw it, too.
She crossed to the door and put her hand on the knob. “I gave you my word I’d go back to Minneapolis, and that’s what I’m going to do. But if you ever change your mind about Kyle needing a mother, and if you want to find out for sure if I am or not, that’s where I’ll be.”
As Sara left, Nathan watched her through the window. She practically ran down the walk.
She said she’d keep her word. But as he listened to her start her car, as he watched her drive away, he felt a lead weight in his chest.
If she didn’t keep her word, what was he going to do?
